


Homeless

by TheIceQueen



Series: Tired of fighting [18]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Black Eye, Blood, Boys In Love, Brief question about self-harm or suicide., Crying, Desus - Freeform, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Family, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Insomnia, Jokes, Long-Distance Relationship, Loss of Control, Love, M/M, Medical, Memories, Mental Breakdown, Mild Blood, Military, Military Backstory, Military Uniforms, Nightmares, Nothing considered or planned and never will be buy any character, Panic Attacks, Relationship Doubt, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Soldiers, Thoughts of breaking up., Travel, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: After one year and five months together almost every day, Paul is being stationed abroad to teach close combat to local soldiers. None of them knows when he will be back.(All of these stories are connected but most of them can easily be read without the rest of the series. I would think that this is one too, but if you get the urge to dive in further I would suggest an earlier work called A Lot Of Luggage (Paul) or one called Injury (Daryl).)





	1. Day Zero

 

Daryl and Paul weren’t a couple for teary eyed goodbyes, but they weren’t one for goodbyes at all. Since they moved in together, they’d never spent a whole day apart. Even before that they had seen each other at last every third day. The house had been weirdly quiet all day. Daryl had helped Paul pack the day before like he was just going to stay the night or like they were going on vacation together Paul’s bags were at he door and it was only hours before Paul was going to disappear into a cab and none of them knew when he would be back.

In the couch both men were occupied with each their own thoughts. Their fingers intertwined but no words between them and with Paul’s head resting on Daryl’s shoulder they weren't looking at each other either. Marcy, who had strategically retracted to do the laundry that didn’t even had filled a whole machine, was looking in occasionally trying not to be noticed.

Paul had a nagging feeling that he had to say something but had no idea what. He tried to feel Daryl's breathing and heart, but nothing seemed out of the normal. If he had a choice he would never leave, let alone go to a war zone with no promises when he would return. He'd never given it much thought but now it was clear that he felt protective of the strong hunter next to him. Daryl had been through so much, and Paul was sure he didn’t know half of it. Common sense told him that Daryl had done fine many years before they met, and he would do fine this time too, but his stomach hurt, nonetheless.

He tugged himself a little closer to the big man and Daryl tightened the arm he had around him. God, he was going to miss having those arms hold him tight. Daryl had been protecting him too. Paul decided that he wasn’t going to cut this moment short by talking. He closed his eyes and wished for the cab to stay away till they were done savoring the moment.

* * *

“Jesus...” Marcy stuck her head slowly though the door. “Your ride is here.”

The moment was over, but neither of the men were ready. They both knew that they probably never would end it by themselves.

Paul got up and holding Daryl by his hand, the silent man followed him to the foyer. Marcy and the driver were loading the bags into the car. Marcy had seen Paul and Daryl carry them to the door, so she knew which were too heavy for her. As the driver opened the door for the uniformed soldier Marcy stepped aside.

“Dee.” Paul looked Daryl in the eyes for the first time in hours. “You know I’m not going to war. I’ll only be teaching.”

“I know.” Daryl turned his head and sighed loudly.

Paul’s stomach turned as he was getting more and more convinced that Daryl was angry. He hoped to God that it was only to hide that he was sad. With a small tug in Daryl’s arm he turned him back and with the other hand he lifted his chin, so they were eye to eye again.

“Don’t be mad. Don’t let me bring that with me.”

Daryl forced a small smile and nodded. Paul took Daryl’s other hand too and pushed his chest against the hunter’s.

Daryl sighed. “Rovia… Just be safe.”

Paul reached for Daryl’s mouth and their lips melted slowly together in a long unhurried kiss. Paul took a few seconds to rest his head on his boyfriend’s chest and noticed a heart beating slightly faster than before. He looked up with a smile and placed a quick pec on Daryl’s cheek.

“Remember that you’re not alone. Don’t hide away from Marcy. You two are good together.”

Daryl nodded and took a step back as he let go of Paul’s hands. Paul froze for a second while his mind caught up with what was going on. With his eyes at the floor he sighed and slowly made his way to the door and Marcy. Her chest was moving fast, and her fingers were fiddling in front of her waist. Paul slowly took her shoulders with both hands and waited for her to lift her head and look at him.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

The small blonde threw herself in to wrap Paul’s waist in a tight embrace. He took his time to hold the tiny body before he pushed them from each other. A line from a tear was already drawn on her left cheek. Paul caught the one escaping her right eye with his thumb.

“Take care of him.” Paul gestured for Daryl who had remained frozen where Paul had left him.

Marcy nodded and hugged Paul quickly one more time before he disappeared into the cab and drove away.

* * *

Marcy hadn’t said anything when Daryl had turned around and walked up the stairs after the car was out of their sight.

In the bedroom he stopped and let the door close behind him. His first thought was to bury himself in the covers and sleep till Paul came back, but he was pretty sure his mind wouldn’t let him relax.

Daryl knew Paul was only going to teach close combat and self-defense without weapons but that didn’t change that he was going to a country where war was happening. Paul couldn’t tell where he was going witch only made Daryl more concerned about his safety.

He looked at his watch. 11.55 am. Sleeping definitely wasn’t an option. He sat down in the recliner and looked out the window to the garden and for a minute he contemplated going down there to make a fire, but eventually he discarded the thought as he couldn’t seem to get to the point where actually moved and did something about it.


	2. Glitch in Time

Walking through the double glass door to the kitchen Daryl sent Marcy a grateful smile, seeing that she already had breakfast on the table. He took the coffee from the machine, cracked his neck and sat down at the table.

“We normally eat at eight on Saturdays, right?”

Daryl could be wrong. Normally he didn’t even look at his watch, his daily rhythm was heavily directed by following the smell of food… and Paul, who used his watch.

“I heard you up early so thought you might be hungry.”

Marcy brought over the scrambled eggs and sat down across from the man already piling bacon on his plate.

“Guess I was right.” She chuckled and made sure she got a few herself.

Daryl ate in silence, so did Marcy. It reminded him of the mornings they had shared when she first started working there. When Paul was there conversation had never been a problem and slowly Daryl had figured out how to talk with Marcy when Paul was working. He and Marcy had formed a friendship, resembling how he imagined real siblings from normal families would act. It had helped that Marcy was an outspoken and quick-witted girl who wasn’t intimidated at Daryl’s, at times, broody mood.

But now she was silent. He felt her looking op at him a few times, but as soon as he lifted his eyes, she’d look down at her plate again. When both had looked at each their own empty plate for a few minutes too long Marcy stood up and started clearing the table.

“So, what’s the plan for today?”

Daryl came to live and took the last things to the counter and cleared his throat. “Not sure, thought I’d go out a bit, maybe check some traps around the garden.”

Marcy smiled and shook her head to herself. He knew that she still found it amusing that Daryl were catching the rats, coming into their land from the field next to it, in human-traps and then driving them away and releasing them in a field farther away. All three of them knew that they would find their way back in a day, but Daryl had never seen the reason to kill anything that couldn’t be used, and he sat a clear line with eating rats.

“Sure, you take a stroll through the _garden_.” She knocked him on his shoulder as he turned and headed for the door. They caught eye contact and Daryl failed miserably in hiding a chuckle and acting serious.

“Don’t! We’re not starting that.”

Marcy and he had before used what seemed to be hours discussing, sometimes fighting, about the fact that Daryl called their 240 acres for a garden. She thought it was too big and had to be a piece of land or something. Daryl had pointed out that there were no fields or nothing really resembling a forest and as long as it wasn’t used for anything useful it had to just be a garden.

“Just don’t cut yourself on the roses.”

Daryl could practically hear her smirk behind him as he left the room.

* * *

Paul had been up for 33 hours when his group had finally arrived at the camp. The first night had been torture, none of them had been allowed to sleep for six more hours to make sure their day-rhythm was turned as soon as possible. The seven hours of sleep had not been enough to prevent the next day from being a haze of new smells, new faces, and food he was too tired to be interested in, even if it had been one of Daryl’s roasts.

On day three, they all seemed to be a bit more situated, and Paul was actually surprised by the amount of information that he remembered from the day before.

Paul had always been good at meeting new people and there was enough to last him at least a couple of months in the camp, but everyone seemed to keep pretty much to their own groups. When they were eating, he had vivid flashbacks to the cafeteria in high school. His own group was small, the four of them was the only hand-to-hand instructors in the place.

“You coming… Rovia?” E.J.’s smile, framed in red beard, appeared from behind the side of the tent.

“Cut it!”

Paul hadn’t heard that name said out loud for years before Daryl, and now he cringed every time anyone else said it. E.J. knew that perfectly well.

The huge, muscular, soldier and he had been working together since Paul had been transferred to the base six years ago. Just like everyone at home called Paul for Jesus, E.J. has always been E.J. But here their superior officers of course used Rovia and Jackson.

Paul grabbed his backpack and ran after E.J. to the jeep and both guys jumped in the back.

“About time. All done with your morning routine?” Brown was in the driver’s seat. They had only met him on arrival, but he was one of those guys who you got to know really quick. Paul figured that the big mouth on him made up for being a small, extremely white, blonde with the last name Brown.

The guy taking up the passenger’s seat was Tyler. He was quiet and hadn’t revealed much about himself yet, but to be fair, they’d been there for two days and he had just been dropped in a group with three loud-mouths. They would get him started in no time, Paul was sure of it. At some point E.J. and Paul had to settle their bet anyway. E.J. was dead set on that Tyler was in fact they guy’s first name and he’d tricked the whole system somehow.

 

That night was the first night Paul was tired from work and not from a messed-up timeline and sleep deprivation. Which meant that his head was fairly clear as his body fell flat on his cot. As soon as he closed his eyes, he instinctively rolled to his right side only to find that Daryl’s side of the bed wasn’t there. He let out a loud sigh and asked himself what his better half was doing at that moment. For two days, or one… or three, he hadn’t got the time difference down yet, Daryl had been sleeping in their huge bed alone. A heaviness filled Paul’s heart and he clutched his blanket tight in front of his chest, wondering when they were going to get those video calls set up.

* * *

The music sneaking up the stairs and in to the bedroom surprised Daryl when he stepped out of the shower. He threw on some sweat pants and a hoodie and silently followed the sound down to the living room. Music wasn’t a stranger in the house, but the country radio was only ever played when Paul got home from work. Daryl suspected it was an attempt to make fun of him for blasting it in the truck on the way home from a good hunt, but he didn’t really care. He liked the way it made Paul throw the worries of the job out the window. When he turned on that radio, Daryl knew that Paul was done with the world for the day and completely his.

“What’s going on?”

Daryl’s low voice made Marcy all but jump out the window she was looking out off. She spun around and steadied herself on the windowsill with her back and both hands.

“Don’t sneak up on me! You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry.” Daryl couldn’t hide his amusement, but he wasn’t really trying anyway. “What’s with the music?”

Marcy suddenly looked insecure, it wasn’t a look she used very often and it surprised Daryl. “I just thought something was missing not having it on at this time a day. Is it weird? I can turn it off.”

“No. You’re good.” Daryl smiled and stepped into the room, grabbing the remote and turned the sound up. “Kinda missed it the last few days too. Do you want help with dinner?”

Marcy chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder when she walked by him. “Good timing; it’s done. You can set the table.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few days I haven't been writing, but that don't mean that I don't think about writing. So when I struggled with a title for this chapter I made a few additions to my plans for this series. Hope you are in for the long run. (If you want to read all at once and not as I post it: See you back here in 2035)


	3. Restless

The first week was the longest week in Daryl’s life so far. He’d gone through terrible things that lasted longer, but this was mind-numbingly boring on to of it all. For over a week he’d seen Paul everywhere. When he entered a room or turned around. He’d heard his voice singing along to the music and his calm and familiar breathing during the night. Every time he’d seen something reminding him of Paul, which was pretty much everything in the house, he’d smile to himself at how ridiculous it was to be missing someone that much.

Halfway into the second week, things started to get weird. It wasn’t only long it was torturous. It was like his mind had caught up whit Paul not being there and the small moments where he’d sensed him was no more. His heart was still longing though, and something was pulling pieces from it every time he was confronted by the smallest reminder of Paul.

Everything in the house was hurting him, and he didn’t know how to get around dealing with that.

 

He was on the couch, just waking up, when Marcy came down the stairs.

“When was the last time you slept in your bed?”

“Hey, I was tired. Fell asleep watching TV.” Daryl didn’t remember what he’d been watching. He sat up and looked at the small woman frowning behind the blonde curls covering half her face.

She walked towards the kitchen but stopped at the end of the couch and put her hair behind her ear. “Daryl. I just sent all the towels and linen down the shoot and your bed hasn’t been touched all week.”

“Well, I must just have been tired enough to just pass out here.” He got up and brushed a hand through his messy hair walking to the window, pushing aside the light grey curtain Paul had picked out. “I’ve been hunting a lot.”

It’ wasn’t quite true. Sure, he had been dragging the hunts longer than usual, but he’d already filled his quota the first two days, so he’d mostly been driving around just to get somewhere that was not the house. He was sure Marcy knew. Somehow, she was able to pick up on everything. Daryl felt her eyes boring into his back and he turned around to see her standing in the same place with her arms crossed.

“I know it’s not my place, so I’m not going to ask.”

Daryl had to agree. She’d become family, and normally she’d be able to tell both him and Paul how thing were, or should be. But right now, she shouldn’t meddle. He didn’t want all the touchy feeling. He had enough of that going on in himself already.

She pushed open the door to the kitchen and then stopped and looked back at Daryl. “I _am_ going to insist that we eat at normal times. You’ve been sleeping during the day for three days now, and I’m going to see a friend tonight so I’m not serving breakfast now. And this morning was the last time I’ll ever eat lasagna at seven am.”

She disappeared through the door and Daryl was left alone in the big living room. If he didn’t have Marcy, he probably would have forgotten to eat for the last three days or so. If he was totally honest with himself, he didn’t really know how many days had passed. But who needs to be that honest with oneself?

* * *

“Jesus?! You okay?”

Paul saw E.J. standing over him with a concerned look, but mostly confused.

Paul looked around and was surprised to find himself on the floor next to his cod. He brushed a hand over his face and then through his hair, not quite managing to get it under control.

“Yeah. Just rolled over to quickly I guess.”

E.J. offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. Paul’s shoulder had definitely taken the brunt of the fall. He rolled it and rubbed the back of it with his other hand. It wasn’t hurt, but he was sure he would have a bruise in the morning.

The large soldier sat on his own narrow bed and followed Paul with investigative eyes as he did the same.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m sure. Don’t go all mamma bear on me now. Let’s just get a few more hours before sunrise.”

They both lied down in silence and even though his shoulder was sore, Paul turned his back against his friend. The cods _were_ narrow. Only wide enough to support his arms lying down his side. He’d noticed that his broad-shouldered comrade only ever slept on his side.

Paul’s stomach was still slightly upset from the dream or nightmare. He wasn’t quite sure what to call it. He almost never remembered them anyway, mostly he’d wake up with and uneasy feeling of being trapped and scared. His mind to find was always on his ex when it happened, but as soon as he found Daryl’s arms, if his boyfriend was awake or not; he’d calm down and sleep within seconds. This time he must have been looking for Daryl not even half awake. Luckily, it didn’t seem like he’d woken up anybody but E.J.

Paul never woke up screaming or panicking like Daryl still did sometimes. His stomach shifted from uneasy to a clinching pain. What if Daryl was having bad nights? He’d thought about it before he left, but he had no choice about this employment, so he’d pushed the thought away. Now he couldn’t.

 

That morning E.J. didn’t speak much at breakfast and every time Paul looked up, he was looking at him, like he demanded explanation. Paul figured that it must be showing that he hadn’t slept more that morning.

When they walked to the jeep, it became too much for Paul and he grabbed E.J.’s shoulder and stopped.

“Okay. Spill. What is it?”

E.J. looked around and Paul secretly appreciated that he protected his privacy.

“Are you having nightmares? Because if this place is getting to you, I need to do something. I don’t want to, but someone need to know. You know, it’s normal to be affected by something like this. I know we’re not out there but the place alo…”

“Stop.” Paul had been too surprised to stop the rambling before, but it had gone on too long now. “It’s not it. Trust me.”

E.J. was his closest friend outside the house and he was already nodding so Paul just kept going.

“I’m not having nightmares. It’s just a kinda uneasy sleep, I guess. And it’s not this, it’s home.”

The shoulders on the redhead didn’t drop as low as Paul would have wanted them too.

“Is Daryl okay?” E.J. whispered Daryl’s name and lowered his head. “I feel the two weeks too, and I wish they would get that camera phone up yesterday, but he was okay before you left, right?”

Paul nodded and sent the man a smile before he stated walking to the exit. “Yeah. Everything was fine, I’m sure it is. It’s just when it’s silent at night.”

“Ha! Silent?!” E.J. shook his head as he almost missed the step into the jeep. “I didn’t sleep the first three knights from all the snoring. I’ve never heard anything like the choir going on I that tent.”

* * *

“Daryl! Answer me!”

Daryl had stayed awake for over 24 hours to get the day turned back around, and still he’d used the last two eyeballing the bed. It was the biggest reminder of Paul. The only thing they had picked out together, because Paul had insisted on it. Eventually, he’d decided that it was ridiculous not to sleep there and climbed under the covers. He’d turned his back to Paul’s side, trying to forget that he wasn’t there and mercifully he’d given in to the exhaustion quick.

But now it had come to bite him in the ass. He was sitting up gasping and sweating and Marcy was banging at the door.

“Just say something!”

Marcy’s small hands against the wood made one hell of a disturbance in Daryl’s pounding head. He Just couldn’t get his lungs to relax long enough to make a single word.

“Fuck! Daryl, I heard you screaming. Say something or I’m climbing up the dumbwaiter.”

Daryl’s eyes were blurry, and he was only sure he was on the bed, because he felt the duvet clutched between his fingers. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to stay there though. If he didn’t do something, he’d end up passing out and Marcy would probably figure out how to pick a lock or maybe call the police.

He did his best to speak but it only resulted in his breathing being more strained and accompanied by a high pitched, pitiful sound.

"Okay. I can hear you.” The knocking stopped. “Daryl. I’ll get in there somehow if you want it.”

Through his gasping and trying to stay alert enough not to pass out he could practically see the corner of Marcy’s mouth twitching as it always did when she was thinking hard.

“Daryl. Make a loud noise. Any noise, if you want me to stay out.”

It was getting harder to hear the girl and the only thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want her in there with him. She couldn’t help anyway. There was only one who knew how to stop this fast.

He reached out to his right and looked for something. What he didn’t know. He just knew that he couldn’t make any sound himself, except from the wheezing already there.  Nothing was there and he wondered how far from the edge of the bed he was. He tried again, almost tilting before he knocked his hand against something. He hit it hard and the sound of something shattering against the hard wood floor was enough to allow a bit more air flow into his lungs with the next gasp.

“Okay. I get it.” Marcy had lowered her voice a bit. “I’ll stay put till you can talk to me. Knock something over again if you want me to break down the door.”

Even with her small frame and skinny arms, Marcy would probably find away to live up to her promise. But not now. Daryl had to deal with this himself. Paul wasn’t there. He hardly noticed a tear rolling down his cheek. He never cried until after. Was it because it had already been way longer than usual or because he’d forgotten how to deal without Paul and now it somehow felt like his heart was burning from the fast-moving air too?

His hands were getting numb and he realized he wasn’t sure where his legs were and hadn’t for a while. He needed to do something different than just sitting there. Then for the first time in over a week his brain let him hear Paul’s voice. He sat up straight and did his best to breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. It was hell, and at first it only made him dizzier, but slowly he was able to count and make the air move slower and eventually he could even hold the air for a few seconds before letting it go. He slowly opened his eyes and as he got to see more and more of the room his headache went away.

When he was sure the panic wouldn’t take over again, he let go and let his lungs take up autopilot again. Only slightly winded he put his feet flat on the mattes and supported his elbows on his bent kneed. His hands were still shaking as he wiped them over his face, surprised to find now more tears. He combed his damp hair back and looked down at his sweat-soaked t-shirt.

Slowly, a small tapping sound reached his ears. The bottom of the door? Confused at first, he walked over, but stopped half way there. Fingernails rolling against the wood. Marcy. She was still there, making a sound so he would remember to tell her when he was okay.

He continued and put both hands and his forehead against the door.

“Hey girl…” He heard something ruffling on the floor and figured that when it stopped Marcy was standing. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” She talked slowly and sounded worried still.

“I’m sure. I’m just going to take a shower.”

There was a short pause and then a hand was definitely placed on the other side of the door. “Okay. It’s almost five. I know I said that breakfast was between seven and ten, but if you’re not going back to sleep, I’ll make an exception.”

“You don’t have to. Go get some more sleep. I’m okay.”

Normally, there would be no arguing with that girl, but this was new ground and she sounded kind of hesitant.

“I don’t mind, and I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep before I see you anyway. We might as well eat.”

Daryl smiled to himself, still leaning against the door tired enough to sleep for a week, but he too knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Okay, you win. I’ll be down in 20 minutes.”

Marcy’s footsteps sounded down the stairs and Daryl willed his legs to work all the way to the bathroom. He was lucky to have her, he was extremely lucky to have Paul, but was he getting dependant on him? Were his nightmares worse when he wasn’t there or was it just that he’d forgotten how to deal on his own? He didn’t remember them being that bad, not since right after his failed deployment.

With the water falling on him, he was able to make his body relax and finally the tears that always came after broke from his eyes. He used to relax in Paul’s arms, but for now he’d had to settle with the hot water.

* * *

Paul had never wanted to keep his relationship with Daryl a secret but being trapped in this camp for God knew how long, with people he didn’t knew, he’d decided not to say anything. E.J. had silently picked up on that and always lowered his voice when he’d realized that Paul felt weird when anyone but him called Daryl for Dee.

The talk of home had been held to a minimum for the next three days or so, but soon it was announced that the video calls would be ready at the end of the week. It had been over three weeks and Paul weren’t sleeping much.

None of the other guys seemed that affected by it, except Tyler. They hadn’t pressed the issue, but he would get weirdly silent every time someone mentioned home or the calls. The dark haired, tanned guy had warmed up quickly, just as Paul had predicted, the trips to and from the base was never quiet with the four of them trapped in that jeep.

It wasn’t a big deal on the base. At least not that many talked about it, but to Paul it was the only thing on his mind as soon as he was alone. Brown hadn’t even mentioned it before but being the real loudmouth of the four of them he joyful announced that he couldn’t wait for the first list was posted. The calls were scheduled ahead of time and some had to be the lucky ones who got to call the first day.

“My girl must be freaking out by now. We haven’t been apart for so long ever before.” He took a big spoonful of the oats they had every morning and looked longingly into the air. “I miss her big brown eyes.”

E.J. looked just as confused as Paul felt before he turned to his side and opened his mouth. “You’ve never talked about her. I didn’t know you had a girl at home.”

Not quite down swallowing all the food in his moth he frowned. “Sure, I do. Sadie is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Tyler looked up from his quiet bobble. “Wait, isn’t Sadie your dog?”

“Well, of course. I miss that bitch with my whole heart.” He smiled like nothing funny was said and even managed to almost face a hurt look when the others laughed.

“Who are you guys calling?”

E.J. and Paul shared a look and E.J. knocked Brown on the shoulder. “Well, my girl is of the human race and I’m sure she’d teamed up with my parents for this one.”

He smiled at Paul and as the quick thinker he was E.J. took the lead on that one. “I’m sure Paul is calling Dee. They have been together for years.” When Paul nodded with a smile E.J. looked at the last guy. “Tyler?”

For the first time Tyler looked hopeful but still a bit worried about the whole situation. “I just hope my wife will be able to be there.”

Paul and the others went silent and Paul took it upon himself to ask the man next to him. “Why wouldn’t she? She’s alright… right?”

“Yeah. She is but she has the kids and we don’t know if she…” For some reason Tyler was smiling through this.

“Come on. You’re holding us in suspense here.”

“Brown!” E.J. stared the little guy down. Paul didn’t understand how the small guy was never intimidated sitting next to E.J.

“We’re having another kid. She’s set to give birth in four days.”

The three soldiers looked at each other, all of them had let go of their spoons by now. Even Brown.

“Do you even kno…” Paul stopped himself but E.J. nodded at him to go on. “Do you know if she’d already had it or not?”

Tyler shook his head, looking from one guy to another. “Since it’s not the first she might not go full term, but I don’t know.”

“Holy shit! You might have a kid you don’t know about.” E.J. sent Brown a new look demanding him to stop, but Tyler was smiling.

“I guess, I might.” He gathered his stuff and stood up. “We better get going.”

On the way to the jeep, Paul caught up with Tyler. “Hey…”

“Yeah?”

They slowed their walking a bit.

“Are you worried about not being there for the birth? What about your wife?”

Tyler smiled and shook his head. “No. She’s a pro. I was stuck in traffic when we had the second. This is number four. She’ll do great. I just really want to see her, that’s all.”

Paul nodded as they picked up pace again. He was happy that his new friend only missed his wife and wasn’t worried. He wished he could convince himself the same. All day through work and in the food tent later, he tried making himself believe that the feeling in his chest, when he thought of Daryl, was simply that he missed him. When he got ready to sleep, he was almost sure that was all it was, but no matter the reason, his chest still felt like someone was sitting on it.


	4. One month mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul have been away for about a month now and either him or Daryl are sleeping well. They both know how much they need to see each other and hear each other's voices but that doesn't mean that it's easy to do so.

All four soldiers were beat after a long day of work. They had drawn straws to pick the unlucky one to drive the back to base. Paul had been it and looking at the others he was secretly happy that he was not leaving the jeep in either of their hands.

The last two days had been brutal; they had been working before sun-up to get the new transfers up to date so they could follow the rest of the soldiers in training. The communication they had built with the others, with no shared language, for four weeks now, was back to square one. They knew that the next week would be more of the same. Driving out in the dark, working before breakfast, then the groups they had had all along and the drive back watching the sun go down.

Paul was focused on the gravel-road and not getting too close to the escort they had in front of them. Yesterday they had all complained that this was going to be hell. That being on assignment would be hard work, but there was no point in planning it so that they were run completely down. This day, the car was quiet. Next to him, the otherwise never quiet, Brown was staring empty on the road. E.J. had seemed the most relieved that he wasn’t going to be the driver and Paul wondered how long it would be before he would hear snoring from the backseat.

“There you are! Thought you wouldn’t make dinner.” Gallagher’s long brown ponytail was waving after her as she ran up to the convoy as they pulled in.

Almost reaching up to do so, she slammed her hand on the hood to get their attention. “Wow, you guys look shit! Did you push the jeep half way here?”

She tore the door open to the backseat in Tyler’s side and all but pulled him out. She was short and her frame didn’t take up much room, but no one had ever dared to call that beast of muscles small.

Brown seemed to come to his senses and jumped out. “What’s going on, is there real potatoes in the mash or something?”

“They are hanging the lists.”

None of the guys reacted. All of their brains had been fried in the high sun for hours and hours to draw any real conclusions as to what lists could get Gallagher so worked up.

“The call lists. Wow, you really have been working overtime.” She grabbed Tyler’s sleeve and pulled him away. “Don’t you want to know if you can talk to your wife today?”

As far as they knew, she was the only one besides them who knew about the pregnancy. Paul didn’t know how for sure, but he had Brown’s loud voice as the front of the suspect line, but somehow, she knew everything that went on around the base.

Paul, E.J. and Brown was left in silence by the jeep. Paul had pushed the thought of the calls away since the conversation about Tyler’s wife, three days ago.  The only time he’d had let himself think of Daryl was when he woke at night missing someone next to him, but that wasn’t really a choice.

“Did she say today?” Brown looked after the two of them disappearing in to the food tent.

“She did.” E.J. pushed Paul forward with a huge smile. “C’mon.”

Somehow, Brown had pushed himself in front of the masses as the list was hung on the message board. When he emerged from the crowd he ran, almost as fast as on meatloaf-day.

He knocked Paul’s shoulder. “Jesus! You’re up as number three… 22.00.”

Paul’s heart skipped a beat and he took a step back to rest his hind on the table. Daryl would already have gotten the call to be ready, but he couldn’t, not yet.

“What about Tyler?”

“Jesus, no…” E.J. looked demanding at Paul. E.J. was the only one who knew anything about Daryl. He didn’t know so many details, but he had a pretty good understanding of how much the two of them had been good for each other.

“He’s wife is pregnant. It trumps anything.” Paul wasn’t aware that his hands were shaking before he instinctively put them in his pockets.

“Hey!” Brown waited for both of them to break of the staring contest and look at him. “Tyler is on the day after tomorrow.”

None of them had made any promises to switch, but it was a no-brainer. The pit in Paul’s stomach grew and he hunched his back, looking on the sheets of wood that made the floor, before he nodded determent.

“Jesus…”

Paul shook his head and straightened his back, jaws clenched.

“Don’t another guy get a say in this?” Brown folded his arms and tried his best to look offended. “I’m on that list too, you know.”

“You sure you want to?” Paul stood up and tried to figure this ambiguous guy out.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m at the end of the list, which means they have time to switch. Besides, the way you go all quiet and let E.J. here answer half the questions when we talk about home, makes me think that you probably need to talk to Dee more than I need to see my dog-slash-house sitter.”

He did need this, and as soon as possible. Just for his own piece of mind he needed to make sure Daryl was okay. That he hadn’t closed himself off. That his nightmares weren’t back. And now when it was a reality that he would talk to Daryl, it was clear that the feeling of not having enough air in his lungs were a direct result that he just missed his boyfriend more than he’d ever missed anything.

* * *

Week number four had been terrible in the huge quiet house, even though Daryl had spent most of his time in other places. Hunting would only occupy him for two or three days a week before he’d taken home all the pray, he was allowed too. Driving his truck around the countryside had taken him out of the house and away from a lot of things that reminded him of what was not there. Eventually, his thoughts caught up with him there too. Out there, driving, walking, looking into the flames of a camp-fire. It all reminded him of the time before Paul; the silence and loneliness. The thing that confused him the most, was that he’d been living like that for years and had done alright. He had lived day by day. Not worrying about more than getting shelter and something to eat. He never used to question the future and he never thought about the past, except when his knee acted up or the nightmares got to him. He had made it through without thinking too much about it, but now he remembered it as hell on earth.

The days had been horribly long, and maybe that’s why he’d cut them in half by sleeping a few hours at night and then an hour or two at midday, or maybe it was a result of the nightmares coming every night now, and that he didn’t go back to sleep after waking up screaming.

Marcy had withdrawn to her work and worked maybe more than she had to. The house was spotless, and Daryl was sure that sometimes the bathrooms was cleaned almost every day. She’d been out almost every night, and Daryl didn’t blame her for wanting to leave. He wasn’t good company, most of the time he wasn’t company at all. He’d spend most of the few hours, he was in the house, in the bedroom. The last three or four days Marcy had stayed in, though. Even on her weekly day off. Daryl couldn’t remember Marcy ever being in the house a Friday night.

 

Daryl had only been in Paul’s office a handful of times and never without Paul. The last time, Daryl had sat right where the laptop was now and had denied Paul more time to work and pulled him to their bed in the next room. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever sat in the office chair.

Marcy had popped her head in and asked if he needed anything before she took a shower and then put on a TV-show. He’d smiled and shook his head, grateful for her subtle way of saying, I’m here all day but I won’t come knocking for a few hours.

The laptop had been ready for almost half an hour before the black screen turned white and then Paul was there. Daryl’s stomach sank. His tired face was illuminated by dry yellow light, slowly turning orange as the sun was setting. The faded green and mustard camouflage jacket wasn’t like the dark green, rather clean uniform Paul wore at home. It was all a bit too familiar. It was a setting he’d never thought he would see out of his dreams and seeing Paul in the middle of it left him breathless.

“Hi Tiger. Is it working? Can you hear me?”

Daryl swallowed and cleared his throat while nodding. “Yeah, it’s working.”

“Good. Damn Dee, it’s good to see you.”

The sound of Paul’s voice made Daryl tremble from tension he didn’t know he’d build up, but somehow it also pulled him out of the initial shock and allowed him to talk normally.

“You too. You look tired.”

“Well, yeah.” Paul brushed a hand through his hair and looked at the table in front of him. “They’re working us hard.”

There was only one person in the world who was worse at lying than Daryl, and Paul was definitely hiding something, but Daryl was not going to ask about his sleep. That would only come back to bite him in the ass.

“You look tired too. Tell me you haven’t been hunting more than your quota.”

“Don’t worry. I know when to stop. I’m just up early for this call.”

That Paul hadn’t asked about how Daryl was sleeping only confirmed that Paul didn’t want to talk about his own sleep either. An unspoken agreement about that worked fine for Daryl.

“How are things at home? Have Marcy given up on you yet?”

Oh, how he’d missed that teasingly light in Paul’s eyes and he smiled for the first time, since four days ago, when Marcy had changed the country radio with an old Britney Spears album.

“She’s still here. Its freaking boring, but if not for her, it would be horrible. Just tell me about your month, it’s bound to be more interesting.”

The rest of the 15 minutes that had, was almost like their daily ritual where Paul would tell Daryl about his day. Except now there was no dinner between them, or a turned down game on TV, and definitely not a heavy tired hand in Daryl’s.


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effects of the video-call are two sided for both Paul and Daryl.  
> Marcy reveals more of her situation trying to get through to Daryl and Paul also has to figure out the people around him.

To hear Paul’s voice and listening to him telling about his days had somehow given Daryl the energy to talk to Marcy again. He’d even offered to make dinner yesterday. She had been working hard and he saw now that she’d also been using a lot of energy to worry about him. By making dinner for them, he could help her out and at the same time show her that he was handling things better. It was weird how the days had been that much better when the nights had been so much worse.

The image of Paul in the yellow setting and the faded green uniform was the first thing Daryl saw when he closed his eyes. Paul had sounded great and even thrilled about his work and it was clear that there was no real threat where he was, but when Daryl had nothing else to do, he couldn’t forget that picture. The feeling that Paul was in a situation that had the slightest possibility of him going through something like Daryl had, was making him physically ill. It took him hours to fall asleep and when he finally did he would wake up sweating and panting half an hour later. The first few days after the call, his normal nightmares had just come more frequently. Him being trapped somewhere and no one coming when he screamed in pain. But the last two nights the voice screaming had been Paul’s and his panic-attacks had been worse from it. This morning he’d ended up passing out after the third time that night.

The look on Marcy’s face when he came down for breakfast left no room for uncertainty; she’d heard him. He forced a smile and sat down quietly. Marcy placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Food will be ready soon.”

“Thanks.”

She sat down across the table and Daryl could feel her eyes on him as he kept his own locked at the coffee.

“Do you have plans for today?”

“Not really. I can’t hunt anymore this week.”

“Thank God!” Marcy looked more than a little relieved when Daryl looked up. “You haven barely slept for days and I’m not sure you got anything last night, I don’t think you should handle any weapon.”

Daryl smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “You’re probably right.”

She was right, but Daryl would like to end this conversation before it lead to her asking about the nightmares. He would like to stay on her good side, but if she pushed him about that, he wasn’t sure that would be possible.

“How about you? Do you have plans?”

“I do, and now you do too.”

She got up and took the quiche out of the oven and avoided Daryl’s confused look as she sat down and cut a piece for herself. She pushed the hot dish towards him and nodded for him to take one too.

“What plans? I’m not the best company today.”

“You’re the only company I’ve got. That kinda makes you the best, well the worst too, but I’m getting used to it.”

“I can drive you a place and pick you up if you’re going out, but I’m not sure…”

“Of course, you’re not sure, but we’re going anyway. And I’m driving; I don’t trust you with a vehicle either.” She cut a piece for Daryl too and handed him his plate. “Now eat. We’re leaving in two hours.”

* * *

Tyler’s wife had given birth the day before the video-call, so the day after had been all about celebrating that he now was a father of four and had gotten his first daughter.

The celebration in the camp hadn’t lasted long, but the mood in their small group had been lifted significantly, even when still working long days. The talk in the jeep and around the table had been about how it would matter if Tyler was stationed when she became a teenager. She had three older brothers who would scare off every potential boyfriend till she would out from home. Paul was already starting to feel sorry for her.

He was happy that the long periods of silence were almost limited to the nights. It was clear that Daryl wasn’t sleeping enough, if at all. Paul knew that Daryl had gone through his entire life without him, but he hated the thought that the nightmares could be back. It had been worse after the hunting accident and the hospital stay, but the last two or three months he’d only had two.

There was no hiding anything from E.J. Every time Paul would come back from having zoned out a bit the red-head would be looking at him. But so far the concern in the blue eyes, when the large man woke up and found that Paul was already dressed, was building and Paul knew it wouldn’t be left in silence much longer.

Tyler was in the infirmary to get his hand looked at from a wrong move the day before. He wasn’t really hurt, but he needed to be cleared for work. Without him there, Brown directed his persistent jolliness towards Paul and E.J., but didn’t get much back. Paul was tired and busy avoiding the analytical gaze from E.J.

“I know we’re working long hours, but you two are more silent than normal. Even Tyler is not that tired, and he as ha baby at home.”

Paul shook his head and sighed.

“Tyler is not taking care of that kid.” E.J. looked towards the infirmary tent. “Why is he taking so long anyway?”

“Maybe they decided on amputating. There’s only so much they can do, you know?”

Paul looked up at the small blonde with the huge smile. “You’re terrible, you know that right?”

“My mom has said that my whole life. But honestly, which one is snoring and keeping the other one up? Do we need to separate you?”

Brown looked from one to the other with a look that meant that they needed to brace themselves for what were to come.

“Wait… Would you guys prefer a tent just for you? I’m not sure what protocol is about that, but I’m sure the ones sleeping next to you now would appreciate…”

“Brown!” E.J. had straightened his back and looked just a little too defensive. “Stop. We’re good.”

The smaller man held up his hands surrendering and grinned. “Okay, shutting up.”

 

The rest of the day was spent like the others. Brown didn’t seem to have thought more about the conversation, except for joking a bit with Tayler. After the drive back, they had half an hour before dinner and E.J. pulled Paul to the side by the jeep as soon at they got out. Tyler and Brown joined Gallagher and a few others and E.J. nodded at them indicating that they would be there soon.

“So, are you ever going to tell me how Daryl is doing?”

“I told you he looked tired but seemed fine.”

“You did, and I don’t believe you. It’s been over a week and you haven’t mentioned Dee since the call.”

Paul looked around and noticed a few from one of the other groups checking the engine of a jeep behind them.

“C’mon, Jesus. It’s me. Usually you never shot up about Dee.”

Paul smiled and shook his head slightly. “I know. Sleep might be a problem.”

“Are the nightmares back?”

“I think so. It could be that Dee is just not sleeping to not have them. But sleep will catch up eventually.”

E.J. breathed deeply and looked straight at Paul. “You know you have to put it away. You can’t do anything anyway.”

“I know.” Paul put his hands in his pockets and leaned his back against the jeep. “I hate that my job is making him worse.”

E.J. looked up at the others and then he placed a heavy hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Hey, you didn’t do whatever happened to Dee.”

Paul hadn’t felt comfortable sharing Daryl’s past with anyone, so not even E.J. knew exactly what was going on.

“What you two have is good. I know that just looking at you when you talk. It’s hard on all of us. I miss home too. It will be good again after this.”

Paul looked up and smiled at his friend. How that man changed from soldier to compassionate friend in a second, had amazed Paul for a long time.

“I know. Thanks.” He stood up and accepted the quick and strong hug from the large man. “I just miss him.”

A sudden realization hit Paul; he’d just used the word _him_ , maybe even twice, with other people around. As they left to join the others he casually looked back and caught the eye of one of the men by the other jeep. He was a tall man with shoulder-long black hair, but Paul didn’t remember if he’d heard his name before. He didn’t have time to investigate the look on the man’s face, before his eyes automatically broke contact, but he felt the gaze burn holes in his back as he walked away.

* * *

Daryl had used the two ours to try and figure out where they were going. He’d tried refusing to get in the truck before getting an explanation, but he knew that he wasn’t going to get one. He was too tired to argue anyway and if he’d refuse to go, it would most likely be hell in the house the next days.

Almost two hours went by in silence, and just before Daryl was close to giving in to sleep, Marcy drove off the highway and steered the pickup down a quiet road with only a few houses.

“Marcy. Where are we going?” You’ve got me trapped in here. I can’t run.”

“Just down here.”

She made a turn and pulled up to a bigger, one level, building. Daryl’s eyes quickly found a sign by the road. Marcy pulled up to the curve and stopped the car.

“A nursing-home?” Daryl studied the unusually quit girl. “Wait, is this where your dad lives?”

“It’s Friday. I figured I would bring you today. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Marcy always visited her dad on her weekly day off, but she’d never told Daryl or Jesus anything else than that he was in a nursing-home and his wife through the last four years visited him too. Daryl didn’t have any experience in the matter, but this was the strangest round of meet-the-parents he could imagine.

“Are we going in?” Marcy hadn’t parked in the parking lot, so Daryl wasn’t sure what was going on.

Marcy smiled and shook her head. “No not today. You’re safe.”

“Marcy, I don’t get it. Why are we here?”

“First of all; I needed to get you out of the house and not behind a steering wheel or with the crossbow.” She nudged him with her elbow and grinned.

“But I wanted to tell you something.”

Marcy placed both hands on the bottom of the wheel and locked her eyes there. Daryl wasn’t sure what to do. He got a sudden feeling that he needed to hold her shoulder and tell her that everything was alright, but he settled with waiting for her to speak.

“I think it has been over a year since I told you about my dad and her wife. Right?”

“Yeah, I think so?” He hadn’t thought about that for a long time. He’d made small talk with her after her visits, but he’d never asked about anything and she hadn’t told him. “Kid. Is he okay?”

“He’s the same. I know you probably think he’s here because he’s old, but my dad is 49. He got a stroke two years before I stated working for you.”

Marcy was only in her early twenties and had a younger sister. He should really figure out Marcy’s age, she’d been living with them for over a year and he remember Paul buying her something for a birthday gift only a few months after she’d moved in. Her dad could have been old, but the odds had been against it. Why hadn’t he asked about this?

“How is he doing? You know if you want to spend more time with him, just can just say so. Paul and I can make dinner ourselves more often.”

Marcy bit her bottom lip and tightened her grip on the wheel. “It’s not it.” She looked up and revealed the sadness in her dark-green eyes. “I don’t go in every week. He won’t know either way.”

Daryl’s stomach sank and instinctively he placed his large palm over her small hands.

“He knows me on his good days. I text the home first to know. Even if I don’t go, he won’t know how much time has passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath and swallowed before looking out the windshield. “Jesus have said that I was family, I know you think that too.”

“You are, Kiddo.” Daryl knew he hadn’t been living up to that the last weeks and even before he’d never been one for expressing feelings with words, if at all.

“Outside you and Jesus, I only have my dad. And I only have him for a few hours a week, if that.”

“Marcy…”

“No, Daryl. Let me say this.” She turned in the seat and looked at him. “I know how much you mis Jesus. I miss him too. We don’t know how long he well be gone, and none of us can live without family for much longer.”

That young girl had too much wisdom for her age, definitely too much for Daryl to keep up. She was right. She always was. She’d been helping him figuring shit out every time his doubt and insecurity had gotten in the way for his own best.

“Daryl. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you. You’re right. I’m sorry, of course you miss him too.”

“You’re missing the point.” Marcy’s firm listen-up-look was back, and Daryl felt almost safer from it. “We have family right here. You’ll be there when I need it and I’ll be there when you do. Get it?”

First part of that was clear as day now, but the last. Daryl knew what she was getting at and he wasn’t letting her into that world.

“Marcy. I…”

“Daryl, please. You don’t have to explain anything. Just stop locking the door.”

The locked door had been the only reason he’d been sleeping in the bed. It was the big empty bed behind a locked door or the couch where Marcy could find him in the middle of a nightmare. Both were hell.

“It’s not your problem.”

“It is!” Marcy took one of his hands in both of hers. “I can hear you screaming long before you wake up heaving for air. I know you don’t want me there, but please let me wake you up, so you don’t have to go through it for so long.”

Locking his jaw, Daryl looked out the passenger side window. He tugged his had to pull it from Marcy, but she held on. He wasn’t sure he could handle another night of nightmares and panicking, but it was freaking embarrassing that she should see him like that. She’d visited at the hospital, she’d definitely picked up on too much between him and Paul, and she already knew how bad the nightmares were, but she’d never _seen_ it.

“I can’t.” He looked at her and forced a smile. “I’ll be there more. We will spend time together, maybe we should go fishing or something, but I can’t let you see that.”

“Give it some thought.” She squeezed Daryl’s hand. “Just so you know, the hardest thing about a family isn’t helping each other.”

Marcy let go of Daryl’s hand and started the truck. “No matter if it’s to protect them or because it’s because you think you should be ably to manage without; the hardest thing is to _accept_ the help.”

The car rolled down the small road and Marcy turned around. The car was quiet till they made it to the highway.

“So, are you going to cook tonight, or should we join forces?”

Daryl loved that Marcy was able to let things be, and not dwell in it. She’d said all she needed to make him think.

* * *

A couple of days went by working long hours, eating and sleeping. Paul had seen the guy’s from the other group around but had only talked to them casually. After the two of them had clearly overheard the conversation about Daryl, Paul had automatically looked for them every time they would be near. Breakfast, dinner, in the sleeping tent and every spare hour they had during the evening. It was getting exhausting, but the man who had looked at him that day, would always be staring at him when he located them.

The tree others in the group had noticed, and even though Tyler and Brown had no idea what was going on they were starting to choose tables for them in the other side of the tent too. And when the man with the long hair came up next to Paul and Tyler’s bench, even Brown was quiet.

“Can I talk to you?”

The man took a step back to let Paul stand, not leaving any room for him to turn him down. Paul had no intention of doing so anyway. There was no way out of this than through, no matter what this was.

They walked to the corner of the tent where the tail of the queue for food had been when it was longer. It was sort of private and everyone was either getting food or finishing and gathering in casual groups outside.

“I’m Rogers. You’re Rovia, right? But most call you Jesus?”

The man was half a head taller than Paul. He must have been the tallest one in camp and with the stern look on his face, he was the only one Paul had felt intimidated by in a very long time.

“Yeah, ehm I don’t know what this…”

“You have to know one thing about me; I’m terrible in minding my own business. Always has been. So, when I accidently heard your conversation the other day, I had to…”

“I can explain that.” Paul wasn’t sure he really could, but he didn’t know this guy and why was he meddling.

“You know Gallagher is too, right?” Rogers looked at the group of soldiers and got eye-contact with the short woman. She waved for them to come over, but Rogers just waved back.

Paul wasn’t really sure where this was going. “What?”

“Gay.” Rogers looked at him with a crocked smile as he waited for Paul to catch up.

“I’m… She is?” Paul turned and looked at the crowd and wondered how he hadn’t known that. He and the others had spent a lot of hours with her in the evenings. Come to think of it, E.J. had probably turned the conversation away from family most of the times, with anyone but the four of them.

“She is and I’m sure I heard Doc. mention his boyfriend when the nurse was cleaning my cut.” Rogers pulled up his short sleeve and revealed a small bandage on his upper arm.

“I didn’t pay much attention to it, but when I heard you, you seemed so freaking nervous about it that I had to say something.”

Paul took a step back and looked straight at the stranger who had just started the most personal conversation with him.

“Say what?”

“You guys are out of camp more hours than we are, and I’ve been here for three months, so I’m sure I got a bet better understanding of how this place works. No one cares. At least no one who’s talking.”

Somehow Paul felt relieved that he didn’t have to keep the secret and he was sure that at least the Tyler and Brown would be okay with it. Brown had never made any gay-jokes, and that was a guy who had some controversial political jokes in his stash. But now anyone knew he’d been keeping it from them. Would they think he was embarrassed? That couldn’t be further from the truth. Paul had never been embarrassed, not even growing up.

“Hey, Jesus… Can I call you Jesus?”

“Sure.”

“I hope I didn’t freak you out or anything. I just figured that you would want to know that you’re not the only one and the others are doing fine with everyone knowing, but I won’t go round talking. _That_ would be crossing a line.”

It wasn’t hard to build a smile to send the man. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to go eat, but you guys come sit with us if you want company. I figure that Brown could use some new ears for jokes.”

Paul let out a short laugh. “I’m sure he could.”

Rogers took a few steps but suddenly turned back towards Paul. “One thing…”

A bit confused Paul looked up.

“You called him Dee. That can’t be his real name.”

Paul smiled and shook his head.

“Daryl.”

“Thanks. That was driving me crazy.”

The tall man joined his group at their table and Paul took a deep breath before going back to his.

“What?” Paul should have known that Brown couldn’t keep quiet for that long. He looked at E.J. and nodded with a smile, telling him that it was all good.

“They just wanted to extend an invitation to sit with them when we eat, if we wanted.”

Tyler looked more than confused and Brown was clearly disappointed, but the boring explanation. Paul filled his lungs with air and breathed out slowly. He caught eye-contact with E.J. and was sure he knew what he was thinking.

“Rogers overheard me and E.J. talking the other day and just wanted to know what Dee’s real name is.”

E.J. was smiling with his whole damn face and it only got bigger as Paul and him noticed the blatant confusion on the two other men’s faces. Paul felt completely secure that this would be okay, and the faces on them were hilarious, but still his stomach was suddenly making knots.

“I don’t get it.” Tyler was looking from E.J. to Paul and back. “What is her name?”

Seeking support with E.J. Paul looked at him and received a confirming nod to go on.

“Daryl.”

The silence was deafening for about two seconds before Brown broke out laughing.

Tyler punched Paul’s shoulder and shook his head. “So that’s why you’ve been to cryptic about everything. Did you think we would mind?”

Paul shook his head. “No, I just needed to get my act together.”

Brown was gasping for air by now. “You’re not serious.”

Tyler saved a fork from getting stuck in Brown’s forearm as he leaned in over the table. “I’m pretty sure he is.”

“Of course, he is” Brown sat up and wiped a few tears from his eyes. “Of course, you are. This shit is too good to make up.”

E.J. shook his head but took the bait. “What is?”

“Tyler has four freaking kids, and your girlfriend is ginger too, and not just that; I saw the picture; she could be your sister, man!”

The look on E.J.’s face almost had Paul loose his shit too. He’d been after E.J. about that too. It was not only the hair.

Brown hauled in more air. “Half the camp still think that Sadie is my girlfriend, and _Jesus_ is gay. Freaking _Jesus._ It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

* * *

Paul was screaming. No other words than “Help” and “Dee”, made it out of his throat clear enough to be understood.

No matter how loud Daryl would call for him it was futile. He couldn’t see him, and his boyfriend’s voice seemed to move further away from wherever Daryl was.

“Rovia!”

“ _Daryl…_ ”

Paul’s voice seemed suddenly oddly calm.

“Rovia! Where…?” Daryl’s throat was getting raw and his voice was giving up on him.

“ _Daryl, listen to me!_ ”

Wait, this wasn’t right. Paul never called him Daryl. The voice was wrong too.

“ _Wake up, Daryl._ ”

Marcy? Daryl’s eyes sprung open and kind deep green eyes were right in front of him.

“Marcy?” Daryl barely made the word before his lungs took over and the fear still in his body made him blind.

“I’m here Daryl. Sit up.”

Small but strung hands pushed his back and shoulders up. He folded in half and heaved for air between his knees. Shit! He was panicking with Marcy there. He could feel her hand rubbing his back. Why the hell hadn’t he locked the door?

“Daryl. Take one deep breath and I’ll leave if you want it.”

Daryl breathed in through his nose and filled his lungs almost completely and held a hand up, hoping to signal that he was okay, and he needed space. Her hand disappeared from his back and he heard her step back. The sudden cold hitting his back prompted his hand to grab her wrist. Still gasping, he felt the mattress dipping under her weight.

“Okay. Breathe slower and tell me what you need.”

A deeper breath moved controlled in through his nose and slowly out his mouth. He lifted her hand to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his folded legs. The shear presence of someone, made it easier to calm down faster. Maybe he felt safer or maybe he was making it happen not to scare her further, he didn’t know, but either way it was working. Marcy didn’t say anything, and she didn’t move her hand. He was almost back to breathing normally when he lifted his head, but he kept his eyes down.

“You good?”

Daryl cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“Good. Do you need anything?”

He shook his head. This was freaking embarrassing, but he already felt the tears pressing and it would be even worse if she was here for that.

“Want me to leave, now?”

Daryl bit his lip and nodded. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he couldn’t speak without braking down crying. He never could after.

“I’ll go back to sleep then.” She stood up and walked to the door. “Daryl, you know we’re good, right?”

Still looking down to conceal his eyes and trembling lip, he lifted his head a bit more and nodded again. He couldn’t now, but no matter how awkward it would be, he would have to thank her for this in the morning, his nightmare and panic had both been shorter and he was able to think sort of clear.

“Good. Now get some more sleep. And don’t you dare lock the door.”

Daryl heard the door close. Something in Marcy’s voice indicated that nothing had changed. Maybe it was just that she sounded exactly the same. Straightforward, optimistic and somehow still cheerful.

Daryl lied down on his side and let the exhaustion roll over his body. When the fear had left he was left with the sound of Paul’s voice calling his name and feeling of inadequacy as he couldn’t find or help him. His tears rolled freely and when his stomach started hurting he pulled the cover to his chin and curled up on himself. Accepting that the sound wasn’t going away, he closed his eyes and prayed that it wouldn’t continue when he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a long time to post. I've been joggling quite a few roads to take this down and writing scenes just to delete them again. I finally got it sorted.  
> Note that I've marked this to end after the next chapter ;-)


	6. Second Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger: There is a small referral to self-harm or suicide in this chapter. Just a hint, not something that have been considered by any characters in the past, present or future.

Marcy had woken Daryl up from four nightmares in five nights, but only because he didn’t sleep last night. It was easier to calm down after when she was there, but the nightmares were getting worse and Daryl could see on her that she’d noticed and that she was getting worried.

At half past one in the morning Daryl still hadn’t gone to the bedroom. Marcy had been sleeping for a few hours and the house was quiet. No matter how many blankets he wrapped around him or how big he made the fire in the fireplace, he couldn’t get warm. The house felt too big. It felt like just an empty shell that did nothing to shield him from the cold night.

The last resort he had to stay warm and maybe get some sleep was the whiskey Paul had picked out and insisted was the good kind.

Daryl had never enjoyed any other alcohol than beer. The stuff his brother used to make himself wasn’t enjoyed, at least not for the taste. But after meeting Paul, Daryl had learned to appreciate a good whiskey. After two and a half months without Paul, the bottles on the shelf was calling for him. They were mocking him. It didn’t feel right to drink a whiskey alone; he wasn’t sure he’d even like the taste when Paul wasn’t there. He never had before.

That night in the bar he was just making time pass till his birthday was over. When he was a kid, his big brother would be the only one to remember. One time he’d taking him for a ride on the back of a bike he’d found in some dumpster. Their dad was passed out drunk and they ended up spending hours in the dark throwing skip-rocks on the lake. It was one of the few good memories he held on to in a mess of bad ones he tried to forget. That night was followed by one of the worst beatings he’d seen his brother get, he couldn’t remember his dad’s excuse, but they were never good anyway. Sadly, that was one memory he couldn’t erase.

He shook off a chill and threw another log in the fireplace, before he went to the even colder kitchen and brought a few beers with him back to the couch.

Since Paul started obnoxiously annoying him that night, his life had turned completely around. He loved his birthdays, and Paul’s too, but if Paul were to stay away just a few days more he’d have to spend Paul's alone and drink that whiskey alone. It was excruciating not knowing when he would come home, but one thing was sure; he wouldn’t open that bottle early.

* * *

After waiting a month for the first video calls, the one and a half Paul had now been waiting for the next was torture. He would walk by the message board every morning and once or twice before they turned in in the evening. Once every third or fourth day there would be a post, informing them that the signal was down or there was radio silence for some reason. With no way of counting the days to when he would get home, he had involuntarily started to count the days since he’d seen his sleep deprived boyfriend on the screen. He knew he was making it worse on himself, but he wasn’t sure he could stop now that he had started.

Their workload had lessened a bit after the new trainees were caught up, and even though Paul had widened his network the hours were still too long. He almost missed the days where he would pass out exhausted before dinner and then again after. With less to make him physically exhausted his nights got worse. He would stay awake for hours before falling asleep only to wake up surprised that Daryl wasn’t next to him when he turned. He had nothing to do but look at the ceiling of the huge tent and only see Daryl trying to disguise that he was taken by surprise seeing Paul in this setting. Paul knew. He knew that he’d woken memories in Daryl, and he wasn’t sure if the call had even been a good idea, but he still couldn’t wait any longer for the next one.

“Haven’t you slept?” Paul turned and looked at E.J. sitting on his cot, pushing his arms into the sleeves on his shirt. “Didn’t you hear the horn?”

Thinking back a few minutes, Paul had heard it, he just didn’t give it an ounce of thought. He sat up and brushed both hands over his face and then one through his hair.

“Not much. I got a few hours.” Paul would love to have said that he’d slept fine, but E.J. would have seen straight through that. So, he decided on a more believable lie. Paul was perfectly aware that he hadn’t slept at all.

“You need to get onboard with the thought that no news is good news or you’re going to burn out. Or worse, get us all killed in a crash in the convoy. You need to drive sometimes too.”

“You’re right.”

Paul smiled at his best friend and clearly most clearheaded of the two. He was right, if something was taking a bad turn at home Marcy would get a message though.

The next few days were a bit easier, even going on day 52, 53 and 54 since the call. Paul would still wake up missing Daryl, but he had some success convincing himself that things were manageable at home and it made it easier to sleep.

On day 55 they didn’t make it to dinner before a crowd was gathered around the message board. Even with E.J.’s height advantage he and Paul had to wait for most of the people to clear out for them to see. The calls for their group were next morning before work. E.J. was up first and Paul was one of the last three. The only three calls that was longer than fifteen minutes. Why had he been given twice that?

E.J. had noticed too and just shook his head and shrug his shoulders when Paul looked up at him. After losing his appetite completely he decided that dinner could wait and went to the officers tent to ask the one responsible for making the connections to home.

* * *

Daryl hadn’t slept, but only moved when the sun hit his face. He squinted his eyes and looked down himself, covered in blankets and sunlight. Still on the couch and still cold. He hadn’t heard Marcy in the kitchen before now. She was more quiet than usual, but she was definitely working on breakfast. Daryl could smell the bacon sizzling on the pan.

He sat up and did his best to feel the sun on his face, but it was only the light making it inside. Daryl damned that house for letting the night in and keeping the warm day out. He decided to take a shower before joining Marcy at breakfast.

 

Somehow Marcy had convinced him to go to the store with her. It was probably the last thing he wanted to do. He had no business in the store. He would just end up walking around three feet behind Marcy who would most likely rush through there like a hurricane. But he needed to leave the house he didn’t feel welcome in anymore.

The car-ride was more silent than Daryl had expected. Of cause, he’d expected the awkwardness to continue, but Marcy was never one to leave it in silence. It had been awkward between them since the first time she’d woken him up, but even though he hated for her to see him like that and hated that he had to accept her help, he hated Paul’s screams and waking up not being able to breathe more. Sometimes he thought the tension between them was all in his head or that he was the only one adding to it. However, most hours of the day he was convinced that Marcy being her normal self was only an act.

The first night she’d woken him up, he promised himself that he would thank her the same morning, but he couldn’t bring all of this up sitting face to face with her. It would be weird. It wouldn’t be him and he wasn’t even sure he would be able to say the words. Even thinking about talking about it all, made him either tear up or breathe to fast, depending on how tired he was in the moment.

“Are we going to the nursery home again?”

Marcy looked surprised at him before turning her attention back to the road. “Why would you think that? We’re going to the store in town, we didn’t turn on to the highway.”

“Well, last time, maybe the only time, you were this quiet, we drove there.”

“I was just thinking.” Marcy’s voice was almost never this quiet.

“Well, don’t. It’s making me uncomfortable.” Daryl was surprised by his own words, and the way Marcy suddenly looked up at he, she clearly was too. Daryl had lived most of his adult life in silence, after the military he’s only talked to the people he had to. It had taken him time to learn to talk to Paul and he was still working on the rest of the world, even Marcy. She knew that.

“I was wondering.” She concentrated on the road as they headed into town. “You haven’t had a nightmare for two nights, at least not bad enough to wake me.”

Daryl waited less than patiently for what to come while Marcy took a deep breath.

“Did you get an e-mail about a video-call or something?”

That wasn’t the reason and Daryl suspected that Marcy was very much aware that he hadn’t been sleeping.

“No, I’ve just slept better I guess.”

Why hadn’t he checked his phone this morning? Normally, it was the first thing he did. He pulled the phone out of his pocket. There were three mails. He’d never hated spam-mail as much as he did since Paul got stationed. How did they even get his mails? He’d never signed up for anything or bought anything. He hardly used his mail for anything, before Paul left. He skipped the two first as his heart almost stopped when he recognized the third address. He was sat up for fifteen minutes late that same evening.

“Tonight.”

Marcy smiled and squeezed Daryl’s forearm before she left the car in silence again. Daryl didn’t mind the silence anymore. He wasn’t thinking about that. He would be able to see Paul again and even though those fifteen minutes had left him ambivalent last time, he was going crazy waiting to see Paul again.

* * *

The officer had told Paul that it wasn’t an emergency. The call wasn’t twice as long. They had gotten a request for a second call and they were lucky enough to grand the wishes for a few of them. Paul hadn’t eaten and he had only shook his head and left the table when E.J. had asked. He couldn’t deal with Brown’s easy way of looking at things or E.J.’s reasoning.

There was no good outcome from this. Only Daryl, Marcy and his friends who were here, knew about this. Marcy wouldn’t have asked for a call for herself to give him good news. Daryl’s nightmares were worse, or he wasn’t sleeping. If Marcy couldn’t get through to him, no one could.

He knew he should have never left him. Daryl was the strongest man he’d ever met. What he’d been through had torn him down, but he’d kept going, broken and isolated. But a person can only take so much. For almost two years Paul had lived in a world he never thought he deserved. Had he been so blind that he’d done it at the expense of Daryl’s endurance? He had made Daryl think that he would always be there to help and then he had abandoned him.

Daryl was doing okay before he came into his life. He wasn’t happy, but at least he was managing his demons better without the roller-coaster he had put him on. Paul wasn’t good for anyone. His mood swings, dreams and his convictions borderline phobias. How could he be a part of anything, when he couldn’t take care of himself? Daryl had enough problems without having to worry about him too. What if Daryl had realized the same thing? What if Marcy had asked for a call to tell him that Daryl wouldn’t be there to answer his?

Paul’s stomach turned and provoked a gag. He didn’t notice he was dizzy before his head hid something hard on the way down. He only just saw his hands land on the ground before they were covered in what little he had left from lunch. Then he saw nothing.

 

“Jesus?”

A lamp above him burned into his eyes as he tried to open them.

“Hey, Doc. His coming to.”

The voice was clear enough but seeing more than shadows took effort. “E.J.?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Sitting by your side, like a worried mom.”

“Hey, good to see you awake. You took quite a hit there.” The doctor lifted his hand checking his pulse and Paul managed to focus on an IV line leading to a bag that was almost empty.

Paul’s whole face ached when he squinted to get his sight working properly. “What happened?”

E.J. stood up. “Well, lets see; you decided to get out of work for the next days by hammering your face into a table. There are easier and less painful ways, you know?”

The call. How long had he been out? Surely not all night.

“What time is it?” He tried sit up, but the doctor pushed him back down.

“It’s almost midnight and now that you’re awake they’ll make me leave to get some sleep. Some of us are still working tomorrow.”

E.J. placed a heavy hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “Give me a minute before you go all professional on him again.”

The doctor smiled and walked away. E.J. sat down again. Paul was still a bit to hazed to worry about what E.J. might say. His mind was still wrapping itself around the thoughts from before and his physical reaction to them.

“Jesus. What the hell? You scared the shit out of us. Of me.”

Paul managed to lock eyes with his friend’s. He definitely wasn’t worried about Paul’s health anymore, not physical anyway.

“Sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Sure you do.” E.J. leaned in a bit closer to talk more private. “You’re the only one who knows exactly, but I get the drift of it. You psyched yourself out over the extra call.”

Paul looked at the ceiling and locked his jaw. No way he was crying. No way he was even going to let his eyes well up.

“Jesus.” E.J. took hold of Paul’s shoulder. “Paul. Listen to me.”

He waited for Paul to gather himself enough so he could look at him again, without spilling.

“What are you scared of? I can see something is terrifying you.”

Paul shook his head and again felt his face hurt. What the hell did he do to himself?

“You are the one to always talk about home, about him. You never shut up. Come on.”

Paul wanted E.J. to leave right now. He was not able to say it out loud even if he wanted.

“Are you scared that he’s going to hurt himself.”

“No.” Paul looked straight at E.J. “Never! Dee, would never.”

Paul knew that for sure. No matter how bad it would get, no matter how horrible Daryl’s life would get. Daryl would never do anything like that.

“Okay, then what? Anxiety? Depression? Insomnia? You know that’s kinda what you’re doing, right?”

“I know.” Paul pushed himself up a little but stopped when he caught the stern eyes from the doctor across the room. “Dee can handle himself. I hate that he has to do it, but he can.”

E.J. straightened his back and looked investigative at Paul. “You’re not stupid enough to think that he won’t be there when you get home?”

The breath filling Paul’s lungs burned, and it was like he forgot how to let it go again. He turned his head away to hide that his eyes betrayed him and let a tear roll.

“You’re an idiot, you know? I’ve never met Daryl, but if he loves you just half as much as you love him, there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to leave.” He grabbed Paul’s chin with a firm hand and turned his head back to look at him. “You have to get that out of your head. Hear me?”

Paul swallowed, hoping to get rid of the lump in his throat and nodded at his friend staring demandingly at him.

“Good. I’ll tell Doc. that you haven’t slept for days and maybe he’ll give you something, but if you still don’t sleep; you take the time to get yourself back on track, because this is ridiculous, and you know it.”

E.J. left him before he had time to answer, not that he could anyway. It took him a few deep breaths to make sure no more tears would fall, but it took a whole lot longer than that to find something that would erase his doubt about what E.J. had just said. The time he had had with Daryl was filled with memories of them helping each other with horrible memories, but most of all with good times, the hunt where he’d ended up carrying Daryl back to the truck on a dare, the trust they shared in the basement, the nights in the hammock by the fire and the one day they had spent there eating strawberries in the sun. He’d always smiled at the ridiculousness of that image, but now it only made his vision blur. What if he couldn’t make any more nonsense memories like that?

He forced the thought out of his head preventing himself from getting nauseous again. They would never break. They were good for each other he had to believe that. They were the only couple he knew of that never fought. The only times had been when intruding on private terrors they both had been hiding for years. The first and only real fight they had was about just that. Paul had freaked out snapping right back into the mindset of being with his former boyfriend and Daryl had had to hold him locked down till he stopped fighting.

The water in his eyes subsided and his eyesight got clearer. Why was it easier to think of that? Why did it make him relax? He had no idea why it got easier to breathe when thinking about that fight, but it was the only calm he’d had for hours, days really, so he held on to it. It had ended up with Paul telling Daryl about some of his past. They were sitting on the floor, Daryl’s arm around Paul’s shoulders. Paul had asked about Daryl’s past too, and Daryl had agreed to move into the same house if he could tell him in his own time, maybe never.

Paul smiled to himself. Daryl had loved him before he could help Daryl with his fears. Daryl had wanted to live with him so soon after they met, not because Paul was there to help him, but because they worked.

For the first time since he woke up, Paul felt safe closing his eyes. He was sure that he wouldn’t see himself coming home to an empty house anymore. Daryl would be there. The home they had made was safe.

* * *

Marcy had made dinner later than usual. Daryl was sure it was so they had something to do before the call. He’d always loved her subtle way of saying “I’ve got your back.” Even though it had been less subtle the last months. She was buzzing around cleaning up after her cooking. Daryl took the used plates to the dishwasher and leaned his backside against the countertop after he closed it.

“Kiddo. Can you stop for a second?”

Marcy looked surprised but maybe not as surprised as Daryl was that he’d actually said it out loud. He had to continue now.

“I just… I know you…” Daryl looked at the floor. When was he not able to talk to her? She was the easiest person to talk to. Some subjects were too deep for them to touch but the last months and especially the last week, she’d seen him at his absolute worst and helped him through it. So why couldn’t he just say thanks?

“Daryl?” Marcy whipped her hands in the side of her jeans and put them in her pockets. “You know I what?”

Daryl swallowed before he looked up at her. “That you didn’t sign up for this.”

“C’mon. Do we need to have that conversation again? I thought we had it the other day in the car and you know Paul tried the same thing when you were in the hospital, right?”

Paul had told him about that when they got home. They had both accepted Marcy’s offer to help when Paul was at work. That time had definitely made it easier to let her help this time around.

“I’m not starting that.” Daryl pulled out a chair for Marcy and sat down across the table himself. “Let me just say this okay?”

Marcy turned towards him, gathered her hands in her lap and nodded for him to go on.

“I know, that when you started here, you didn’t sign up for this. The hospital, me freaking out over Paul’s mood-swings… the loud noises…”

Daryl was glad to hear Marcy laugh loudly. He was sure she would know which noises he was talking about.

“… all of it. And now the nightmares.”

Marcy opened her mouth to talk but Daryl lifted his had to silence her and she leaned back in the chair. He leaned in and took one of her hands and held it loosely on the table.

“You’ve taken all of that on when you didn’t have to. I’m not going to thank you for helping, because I know you will just tell me that it’s what family does.”

Daryl looked at her eyes and knew that he was right.

“So instead I will thank you for choosing to be a part of our family. No matter how little and dysfunctional it is.”

A few seconds of silent eye-contact went by before Marcy put her other hand on Daryl’s and widened her smile.

“Thanks for letting me.”

Daryl loosened his hands. For a few minutes it had been easy for him to breathe, he could say it as it was, but when he stood up it was suddenly awkward again.

Marcy stood up and wrapped her arms around Daryl’s waist for a second. She stood back and looked up and him with that joking glimpse in her eye.

“Good we got that out of the way. Now we can get back to be hard-asses again. I can’t be going soft you know.” She turned around and opened the dishwasher to put the last inside.

Stunned by the girl, from who he thought he was prepared for anything, Daryl watched her as she looked back over her shoulder.

“We’re good. Jesus will be calling in under an hour. I’ll stay down here.”


	7. Drugged

“Okay sleepyhead. That’s it, wake up.”

They had woken him up once every few hours during the night. He had acquired quite the concussion. This time it wasn’t the doctor or one of the nurses.

“Hey, open your eyes… or the one you can.”

“Rogers?”

Paul squinted against the harsh light shining in trough the opening of the infirmary-tent. He had a harder time focusing than last night and realized that only one eye was open. After blinking a few times he turned his head to the other side and found his new friend sitting next to his bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, good morning to you too.” The strong man pushed Paul up a bit and placed a pillow behind his back. “Doc. is busy so I got called in as babysitter.”

Paul was still working on regaining his balance after sitting up.

“I work night patrol this week so when your group drove out I ended up here.” Rogers handed Paul a bottle of water. “You should drink.”

Paul took a sip of water, but almost choked, when he remembered. “They drove out?!” He coughed and his face flared up in flames. “What time is it?”

Sitting up straight in the bed had him dizzy again, but he didn’t care and proceeded to throw his legs over the side of the bed.

“Calm down, will ya’?” Rogers pushed him back down.

Any other time Paul could have taken him down, he was sure, it was all technique, but in his condition he had to come to terms with the fact that Rogers could push Paul’s legs up using only his knee.

He squeezed Paul’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Now, stay put or you will get a shiner to match that one and you will be totally blind.”

Paul nodded and did his best to relax.

“Did I miss the calls?”

Rogers sat down and shook his head.

“No. There will be no calls. The radio silence is back.”

Within half a second Paul’s nausea was back and just as violent as yesterday. He turned away from his friend and stuck his head over the other side of the bed. Nothing came, his stomach cramped and his head was pounding, but after heaving for what seemed like ten minutes, he only gagged up the small amount of water from before. Rogers hand was on his shoulder keeping him from falling off or trying to pull him back. Paul wasn’t moving though. He was sure that any second he would spill the food from last time he ate, even though he didn’t remember when that was.

“Rovia?” The nurse who had woken him up multiple times during the night was hunched down in front of him. “Rovia, you have to lean back.”

Paul always cringed when anyone but Daryl called him that, but especially in this moment, he hated it. She pushed him by the shoulders and with Rogers’ help they got him seated against the pillow again.

She shined a light in Paul’s eye, turned his head to look at the other and with a thumb she carefully palpated the surrounding area. The tenderness spread all the way to under his cheekbone.

“I’ll get you some ice for that, we need to get the swelling down. We’ll give you something for the nausea too.”

Paul felt like he should have said that it most likely wasn’t the concussion making him nauseous, but he couldn’t be bothered to give it too much thought.

“I’m under orders to get you something to eat, but I guess you want to wait on that?”

Marcy had wanted to talk to him. She needed help. It was the only logical reason, and that meant that Daryl needed him. The only way he could do that had just been taken from him. What now? How much of a hell was the nightmares leaving Daryl in? He wasn’t scared that Daryl would leave anymore but knowing that he was hurting when he was stuck here, was unbearable.

“Jesus?!” Rogers hand was on his shoulder. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No worries. I can see that you did a number on your face, but I guess the inside got quite a pound too.” He picked up the bottle which had landed on the floor when Paul curled up on himself before. “Was it the water that made you barf before or was it the news?”

Paul took the bottle and drank almost half of it. It felt good flowing down his raw throat. He didn’t think he’d gotten anything since he threw up last night.

“Okay. So not the water. Is everything alright at home?”

Paul took a deep breath and pushed himself up further. He forced a small smile. “Actually, I don’t know.”

“Place this on the eye.” The nurse handed him a wrapped ice-pack and then proceeded to push something into his IV attachment.

Until now, Paul hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t on fluid anymore. He must have been sleeping heavily during the night, since he didn’t remember being taken of it. He held the ice on the left side of his face and winched when it touched his nose.

“Did I break my nose?” Directing the conversation in another direction was a route he had to take before he lost his mind.

The nurse stood by the end of the bed. “No. You scraped some skin of, just a road rash really but the skin and tissue around your eye is going to be swollen for a few days.”

Rogers leaned in with a smile, shaking his head. “You’re already showing a beautiful palette of colors.” He looked at the nurse. “Do you have a mirror by any chance?”

“Sure.”

She came back a few minutes later and handed a round palm-size mirror to Rogers. He failed holding the mirror in the right ankle so Paul took it and held it up as he removed the ice. His nose had a small scrape on one side, it had been bleeding and it looked like the exercise with his head down before had gotten it started again. Both upper and lower eyelids were swollen and keeping him from opening his eye. It was black over the inner corner and under the eye, the rest of the area from just over the eyebrow and down to the middle of his cheek were covered in dark read and deep purple. Even his right eye had drawn some of the darkness around it. The pressure of the ice-pack had been uncomfortable but when he put it back on he was more careful and still it hurt more.

The most important thing to him was to get that call or at least a message from Marcy. However, looking like this, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to call them if they got the signal. He didn’t want to scare either of them. Daryl wouldn’t be scared by the injuries themselves, but he wasn’t sure he could convince him that it was an accident. Daryl’s brain tended to go out the window with anything involving the military.

* * *

It had been three days since the night Daryl had been ready by the laptop, twenty minutes early, only to get the message that there would be no call. Daryl didn’t know if Marcy had been worried or maybe had realized that Daryl was going to invite her in to talk to Paul too, but as soon as he closed the laptop she had knocked on the door.

There had been no words between them, only a gaze that must have told her everything and then a long firm hug before they both went to bed. Daryl had had a nightmare that night, worse than any of the others, not even with Marcy there could he calm down. He’d ended up passing out and waking up with her sitting watch in the room.

He was sitting in the couch like he was yesterday and like he’d been all night. Yesterday had been Pauls birthday and Daryl had used the day waiting for it to pass and to think about how things used to be easier. The time with Paul had been a long wonderful roller-coaster, but now he was hurting more than he could remember ever having before. He was getting weaker in this way of living and everything he had shown for it, was placed on Paul’s shoulders. Paul was the best man he’d ever met and the thought of bringing him down with him was crippling. He was a mess and getting worse. No one deserved to whiteness or take care of that, least of all Paul.

Daryl knew that Paul would come back. He knew that Paul would never say that he was making his life harder. He was too good of a person. And worst of all, he knew that Paul loved him. Really loved him, maybe even as much as Daryl loved Paul, but that didn’t make it right to pull him down.

“Daryl?”

Marcy was hunched down in front of him with both hands firmly on his knees.

“Daryl, you need to sleep. I wish you would take something.” She looked at the table next to her. “Something better than a couple of beers.”

Daryl shook his head and sat up straighter. “I’m okay, Kiddo. I just need some time after yesterday.”

“I wanted him to be here too, and I hate that we don’t know when he will come back, but you need to eat at least. You have to be good when he comes home.”

Good. He wasn’t even good when Paul left. He’d been better than he’d been his entire life, but still not good enough.

“Hey. What are you thinking? You look bad.”

Daryl forced a smile and looked investigative at Marcy. “Bad? Really?”

“Yeah, you’ve gone from miserable yesterday to scared thin morning and in the last few minutes you just look sad. What is going on?”

Daryl looked away and hoped that she would leave him alone. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He was too tired and he didn’t want to explain. She would just make some reasonable explanation and he would believe her again, only to go back to this in a few days.

He’d even convinced himself sometimes. If he took the time to remember the times he and Paul had had he knew that he was spinning out of control, but five days with almost no sleep and only a horrible nightmare to show for the two hours of rest he’d gotten, has resulted in a mind that wasn’t able to make rational thoughts.

“Daryl?” Marcy took on of his hands in both of hers. “Please. I don’t want to call a doctor, but if you don’t take care of yourself I have to.”

Daryl looked straight at her and pulled his hand back. She looked scared even before he locked eyes with her.

“No you won’t.”

The girl who had been his lifeline for three months looked small, and for the first time since he met her, timid.

“I’m sorry kid. You know how I am about that. I’ll be okay. Just give me a day to get my shit back in order. I’ll come out for dinner.”

He smiled at her and slowly she built a smile too.

“Okay. Good.” As she stood up she leaned in and left him with a small peck on his cheek.

He would never take anything to sleep and Marcy knew that perfectly well. She had to be extremely worried even to suggest that. He hardly never got drunk either. Only once in the last nine or so years and Paul had been the only one to witness it. It was Paul’s birthday last year and it had very much been unplanned and he hadn’t handled the loss of control well.

They hadn’t made huge celebrations at birthdays, just a bit more special attention to each other. He needed that now. He needed what they had on a regular day. His gaze landed on the shelf with whiskey. Maybe it could help him to get some hours of sleep, or at least to fall asleep. Even if it just could give him a break from the tensing of his muscles or his thoughts going down paths he couldn’t control it would be a good solution.

Before he knew what was happening he had a glass on the table and one of the half empty bottles in his hand. He slowly sat down and poured himself a glass. He was not going to get drunk. He might as well had taken medicine then. He would end up panicking and it was not the goal.

After closing the bottle, it stayed in his hand as he stared at the drink. Would it even taste good when Paul wasn’t here? What if it didn’t calm him down? It would most likely make it all worse, but Paul could be away for three months more or even longer. He needed a break, if just for one night.

“Are you going to finish that or are you sharing?”

The hairs stood up in the back of his neck. Paul.

Reflexively he jumped up and spun around and was faced with Paul’s wide smile and blue eyes.

“Are you not going to welcome me home?” Paul’s voice was shaking.

“Rovia?”

Daryl dropped the bottle not giving any thought if it would land in the couch or shatter on the floor.

Paul stepped closer and noticed the tears building in his own eyes. He knew it would be a surprise, but was Daryl more shocked over his presence or the dark purple still surrounding his eye?

“Dee. I’m home.”

The shivers of cold hunting Daryl’s body for weeks, left as he walked to his boyfriend and cupped his chins and jaw in his big and shaking hands.

Paul did the same and with both pair of eyes letting loose tears as they closed, the couple leaned into each other’s lips. Through the other, all doubt left Paul’s body and all tension left Daryl’s. As one, their legs gave in and they slowly dropped to their knees. With each one knee between the other’s. They sat on their heals and leaned back to see the others blue eyes.

Still holing Paul’s face in his hands, Daryl turned it to get a better look at the bruise and the scrapes. His stomach knotted up and made him unable to speak. Paul took his wrists and moved Daryl’s hands to a hold on their thighs.

“It’s nothing.” Paul squeezed Daryl’s hands a bit tighter. “Dee look at me.”

Daryl’s gaze shifted from the shading of Paul’s skin to the safe refuge in his eyes.

“It’s only what you see. Nothing but a shiner. It’s not the reason I came home.”

Both of them relaxed their grip on each other but neither let go.

“You look like crap too, you know. You don’t sleep, do you? Or is there another reason you’re drinking my whiskey when I’m not here?”

“I never got around to it.”

They shared a smile before leaning into another safe haven framed by a kiss, and felt each other’s bodies melt a little more.

Daryl’s eyes watered again. How could he even have doubted how much Paul had missed him? How could he have misunderstood his own pain for anything else than missing Paul?

“You look tired too.”

Daryl pulled Paul in and let him rest his head on his chest as he held him tight in his arms. Paul wrapped his arms around Daryl and placed his hands flat on the broad of his back.

Sitting still like that they took their time to breathe. Paul soon smelled the familiar sent of Marcy’s tomato-beef casserole sneaking into the living room.

“Something smells good.” Paul slowly turned his head and saw Marcy’s light curls peeking through the door-opening to the kitchen.

Daryl looked at the door too. She was clearly aware of what was happening but had stayed behind the door not to disturb them.

Daryl let go of Paul and sat up straight. Paul wiped Daryl’s eyes with his thumbs and Daryl did the same, very carefully.

Paul nodded and Daryl turned towards the door. “Come in Kiddo. It’s alright.”

Marcy appeared in the door. Her eyes were glazed over and her face was red as if some tears already had been wiped away. The men stood up and Paul walked to her, taking her shoulders and looking into her eyes before pulling her into a hug.

“I’ve missed you Sweet-pea.”

“I’ve missed you too. Are you okay?”

"I'm perfect. The program got moved and downsized, I'm not home because of a bloody nose."

When Marcy stepped back she looked passed Paul and locked eyes with Daryl and they both nodded. They were good. They would always be good; Daryl was sure of that now.

“I hadn’t started dinner yet, it’s early, so I’m heating some of your favorite casserole instead. I thought you’d be hungry.”

“I sure am. Thanks.” Paul was hungry. He had hardly eaten on the trip home, just from nerves or excitement or something else making his thoughts run through his head a hundred miles an hour.

Marcy smiled and gestured towards Daryl. “ _He_ for sure needs to eat.” She turned to set the table.

Paul considered taking a shower first, but the food was done and he didn’t want to wait. Besides, Daryl stood leaned bum against the back rest of the couch and looked like he was minutes from dropping to the ground.

* * *

It had been difficult eating with their fingers intertwined, but it had been a help for both to have someone to lean on while making it from the kitchen to the elevator. The elevator was only used on rare occasions, but this would classify.

Lying in each other’s arms in total silence was the safest place they both had been since the hours they spent on the couch before Paul left. This was calmer than that. No fears about what would happen to the other or about how long it would be before they would see each other again. Paul had gotten three weeks leave, and they were both sure they would spend the majority of that time right next to the other.

Daryl was sure he would sleep for the first two days straight, as long as Paul would stay in the bed with him. The bed was suddenly soft under Daryl and the covers were warm. Paul had never felt more at home than in this moment and, just like Daryl, he had no intentions of letting it go before they were both rested and ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an interesting one to write and it got longer than planned. (but that's getting to be a regular thing for me.)  
> Thank you to all of you amazing people who stuck with it and thanks for all the comments that kept me going. I'm not done with this series, by far to fear not.
> 
> In the last chapter I hint to Paul's birthday last year, where Daryl got drunk. I'm contemplating writing that and dropping it in the right place in the timeline, we'll see.


End file.
